Their room was on the first floor.  Presently, he heard a grating sound against the window.  It was very dark, and he knelt down so that he would be able to make out any figure that showed above the windowsill.  He thought first of rousing his master, but as he had another pistol in his belt, and his sword leaned against the wall, ready to his hand, he thought it better to let matters take their course.

He had heard no further sound, but presently a round object appeared in sight.  Stretching out his arm, he fired without a moment’s hesitation.  There was a sound of a heavy fall below, followed by some muttered exclamations.  In a moment, Desmond was on his feet, a pistol which he had laid by his pillow in his grasp.

“What is it, Mike?”

“It is only a gentleman who had a fancy for looking in at the window, your honour, and I have no doubt would have come in, without saying by your leave, if I had not cut the matter short by putting a bullet into his forehead.  He had some friends down below.  He came up on a ladder.”

He looked out of the window.

“They are taking it down now, your honour.  Shall I give them another shot?”

“No, Mike; let them go.  The lesson has been good enough.”

The sentry had also run into the room, on hearing the shot.

“It is all over,” Desmond said.  “Seeing that you prevented them from getting in at the door, they tried the window.  Mike has shot one of them.”

There was a sound of feet and loud talking in the passage, and as Desmond went out, the landlord, two of the serving men, and several of those staying at the hotel ran up.

“What is it, senor?  We heard a shot.”

“Yes; a fellow tried to enter my window, by means of a ladder; but fortunately my man heard him, and shot him before he came in.  No doubt it was some prowling marauder, who, seeing my window open, thought that there was a chance of plunder.”

“Carrambo!” the landlord exclaimed, “then we shall have enquiries, and all sorts of trouble.”

“I don’t think you will,” Desmond said quietly.  “I fancy he had some friends down below, and they will probably carry his body and the ladder away, and, if you hold your tongues, nothing more will be heard of it.

“Mike, do you and the sentry take a lantern and go down and see.”

The landlord looked out of the window.

“As far as I can see, everything is quiet there,” he said.  “Are you sure that your servant was not dreaming?”

“That you will soon ascertain, if you go down with him,” Desmond said.  “I fancy that you will find some traces of the affair there.”

The landlord, followed by his two servants, went down with the soldiers, and then, lighting a lantern and handing it to them, went out, keeping carefully behind them.

“There,” Mike said, when he stopped under Desmond’s window; “does that look like a dream?” and he pointed to a patch of blood on the pavement.